


everything i do

by iwaoist



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Iwaizumi Hajime as a catalyst for homosexuality, M/M, Realising your sexuality, Referenced Oikawa/OC, References to Timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaoist/pseuds/iwaoist
Summary: The story of Oikawa Tooru’s first kiss was contested; some believed it was when he was fourteen, and an older girl kissed him behind the big tree in the schoolyard. Others assumed it happened when he was sixteen and had the reputation of a Casanova between the flirtatious lines he handed out to the girls in his class like candy. Some thought that it at least must have happened when he was dating Sawayama Midori. The only one who knew the truth, other than himself, was his best friend.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 17
Kudos: 81





	everything i do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maxpat_110](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxpat_110/gifts).



> hey max!! i'm so honoured that you commissioned this from me, and i had the time of my life writing it. i know it's a little longer than anticipated, but i wanted to do the story justice and thought that you wouldn't mind. i hope you enjoy it!! <3

**i.**

Oikawa was fifteen when he and Iwaizumi talked about kissing for the first time. They were half-watching a movie on the small television in Iwaizumi’s bedroom, where it was perched on his chest of drawers and surrounded by the usual teenage-boy mess. It was a film that they had watched together so many times before, so neither of them were giving it their full attention. They were under Iwaizumi’s bedcovers, cold in the November evening air — Iwaizumi’s room was always freezing, thanks to the old sealing on the panes of glass not quite keeping the outside out, but Oikawa liked it that way. It was something that made staying over at Iwaizumi’s special. He didn’t want to change what it was like to be in Iwaizumi’s room. Besides, he didn’t mind cuddling up to Iwaizumi, even if they were probably too old and too big to get away with it.

Their conversation was joke-y and jovial, prompted by Iwaizumi’s impending first date with “the prettiest girl in their class”, though Oikawa wasn’t sure if he agreed with that assessment of their classmate. For a second, he wondered if Iwaizumi thought _he_ was pretty, but he ignored the thought before he could attribute any meaning to it. 

“So, Iwa-chan, are you gonna kiss Yui-chan tomorrow?” Oikawa asked, his voice melodic and teasing. He wasn’t prepared for the pillow that Iwaizumi smacked him in the face with in response. Oikawa shot his friend a pout as he grumbled something about Iwaizumi being too sensitive. 

“I don’t know, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi shrugged, trying to play it cool. It wasn’t like him to do that, usually, but Oikawa supposed that Iwaizumi didn’t do a lot of kissing, so he must just be trying to get involved with new things. “If there’s an opportunity… then yes, I’ll kiss her.”

“Poor girl,” Oikawa teased again, raising his arms to protect his face from yet another smack of the pillow against his face. It never came, but instead, Iwaizumi shoved Oikawa off his bed, but then looked guilty when Oikawa landed at a weird angle on the rug with his hands reaching out to stop his face from meeting the floor. Oikawa misjudged the distance, and met the floor ungracefully, spraining his wrist. 

Iwaizumi got Oikawa ice for his injured wrist, kissed it better like they were kids again, and apologised quietly and honestly, in the dim evening light of his bedroom. Iwaizumi didn’t go on the date, in the end.

**ii.**

They didn’t talk about kissing again for a long while. It never came up — until suddenly it did, all the time. Their class finally caught the kissing bug and all of a sudden, everyone seemed to be desperate to press their lips against someone else’s. Oikawa, as a star athlete and a universally recognised/self-proclaimed ‘Popular Boy’, was often asked who he had his eye on. Rumours about his love life were the talk of the class, and _maybe_ he didn’t mind that despite never having kissed anyone in his sixteen years of existence, the rumours all said otherwise. 

It helped Oikawa out, really — he could pretend that he felt any desire at all to kiss the girls that made up rumours about him, and that way he could fit in, right? Everyone else was doing it. Everyone else was crushing on people, kissing them, becoming boyfriends and girlfriends. Even _Iwaizumi_ had kissed girls, and Iwaizumi never spoke to Oikawa about having crushes, always saying that he kissed girls because he ‘ _felt like it, it wasn’t like they were getting married, idiot_ ’. 

So why did Oikawa feel nothing at the idea of kissing even the so-called prettiest girls in his class? He could understand his apathy towards kissing girls if he had a crush on someone, if there was someone that had caught his eye and he didn’t want anyone else but _her_. But no girl took his fancy. It wasn’t even like he hated the idea of it, either. It just felt like it wasn’t something he cared for or felt like he would ever really be bothered about. He felt _nothing_.

When Oikawa heard his classmates talking about the girls they liked, he found himself training his focus more and more on Iwaizumi. When things were uncomfortable, Iwaizumi was always there to talk to and distract him, at least for a second. They would talk about what movie they’d watch that weekend, when one of them would stay over at the other’s house, like always. They would talk about a new volleyball play they wanted to try out next practice. They would talk about the errands one of their mothers wanted them to carry out that weekend. By the time they were done talking, they were already in their class ready for the next period and everyone else’s conversations had long since passed the topic that made Oikawa feel nothing but discomfort and dread.

Oikawa wondered, for a moment, why did Iwaizumi never question him about it? Why did Iwaizumi, who always called Oikawa out when he was full of shit, never call him out on this? Why did Iwaizumi never bring up the fact that he was _certain_ Oikawa had never so much considered kissing anyone, never mind actually going through with it? Though he was grateful for Iwaizumi choosing not to bother him on the subject, it still made him think. Being Oikawa, he was prone to overthinking — just not when it came to Iwaizumi, usually. But then again, recently, things with Iwaizumi seemed to be changing a lot.

**iii.**

In their final year of high school, Oikawa did the impossible. He found himself a girlfriend. She was pretty, she was funny, and she was everything that Oikawa wanted in a girlfriend. They spent Friday nights hanging out together, watching films they both liked and talking about their shared interests — she was into astrology, he was into aliens, and they were each the captains of the Aoba Johsai Volleyball Clubs. 

They were the epitome of a perfect match. Their parents made comments about how cute they looked together, reminiscing about their own cases of young love with fond, rosy-tinted stories of stealing kisses on the way home from school. Oikawa Tooru and Sawayama Midori were perfect for each other -- everybody said so.

Except for the fact that they’d been dating for four months and hadn’t kissed yet. They’d hold hands, they’d cuddle on the couch, they’d kiss each other’s cheeks both in greeting and goodbye — and yet they’d never actually kissed. Sawayama tried, once, to kiss him — Oikawa panicked when he realised just how close she was to him and wrenched his head back in an attempt to avoid an awkward situation. He smacked his head against the wall of his bedroom, which made it a thousand times more awkward than if he had just let her kiss him, and Sawayama ended up going home after bringing him an ice pack for his head. 

She broke up with him a week later. There were no hard feelings and she even pressed a kiss to his cheek as she said goodbye, saying that she hoped he found his happiness soon. Rumours swirled at school, as they always did, but Oikawa couldn’t help but feel tired of being the centre of attention. He thrived on recognition for his achievements, not idle conversation about the demise of his relationship.

Iwaizumi never asked him what happened between him and Sawayama. Oikawa was glad. He wasn’t even sure if he could explain it to himself. She was perfect for him on paper — Sawayama was the embodiment of everything he felt like he should want in a girlfriend. But maybe that was it. Maybe he had just felt like he was supposed to feel things for her. He’d just been going through the motions, but all this time, something just wasn’t clicking for him.

Iwaizumi did, in fact, invite Oikawa over the following weekend — though Oikawa cringed when he realised that he had essentially sacrificed his quality time with his best friend in order to see Sawayama every weekend. As if he could tell that Oikawa was about to beat himself up about it, he shoved his elbow into Oikawa’s ribcage in a typical display of Iwaizumi-style fondness. 

“Now, you better tell me that you haven’t been watching the X-Files without me, Shittykawa. You know that I only watch this shit for you.”

Oikawa grinned, settling himself under Iwaizumi’s bedcovers and burying his _very_ cold toes under the warmth of Iwaizumi’s thigh as they curled up together. “Nope,” Oikawa said, popping the ‘p’. “I wouldn’t want to watch it with anyone else.”

Oikawa had said it offhandedly, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised it was true. That, and the fact that he was near a million times more comfortable sitting this close to Iwaizumi than he had ever been with his ex-girlfriend, should have been a wake-up call. 

Instead, Oikawa’s realization came later on that evening, when he caught a flash of Iwaizumi’s muscular upper body as he traded an old Godzilla-themed graphic t-shirt for the vest he would go to sleep in. It had been momentary, involuntary, a reflex that he wasn’t even aware he had. His eyes had been drawn to the curve of Iwaizumi’s biceps and he’d had a thought about what it would be like for Iwaizumi to press him to the wall and kiss him senseless.

Oikawa averted his eyes. He felt _wrong_ but then again, he felt like he’d realised something so plainly obvious. Something that had been right in front of him and he’d been trying to see past it, to no avail. He would have to think more about… _this_. Later. 

(He did. A lot.)

**iv.**

It was early April when Oikawa and Iwaizumi decided to go for a late-night adventure, in celebration of their graduation and the end of an era. They piled into the car that Iwaizumi borrowed from his parents from time-to-time and drove around, saying nothing at all for the most part. They picked up food, deciding to take their banquet fit for kings (or two soon-to-be-broke college-age boys) up into the hills, to look out over their hometown for what might be the last time. They hadn’t spoken about their impending departures, not really — of course, they’d told each other when they each got confirmation that their plans were finally panning out, but they hadn’t said it out loud. 

Oikawa had never said he was leaving for Argentina to go pro. Iwaizumi had never said that he was going to California to study. Some part of Oikawa hoped it was because Iwaizumi, like him, didn’t want to admit that for the first time they could remember, they weren’t going to take on the new challenge in their lives together. 

Oikawa should have known that Iwaizumi wouldn’t let him off easy, though. 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi began. He was illuminated by the car’s dashboard lights and the rare beams of moonlight through the windscreen of the car. Oikawa could have spent hours looking at him, but he ripped his gaze away from the sight of Iwaizumi’s long eyelashes when his best friend, the partner he could be proud of, met his eyes. Eyes of the same shade as the leaves of the spiked succulent that Oikawa kept on his windowsill met eyes the same as the solid earth that the plant had steadily grown from. “We need to talk about something.”

Oikawa’s throat felt tight, but he plastered on a smile regardless. He found that when Iwaizumi wanted to talk to him, his only choice was to listen 

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” Iwaizumi started, but he paused like he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. He’d never been afraid to tell Oikawa anything before now, so it was more than a little worrying. Oikawa reached out, hands wrapping around Iwaizumi’s wrist in silent support. Iwaizumi visibly relaxed, letting out a breath that neither of them realised he was holding. “I just wanted to talk to you about the future, you know? But I can’t.”

Oikawa’s lips pursed in the darkness of the passenger seat. “Why not?”

“Has there ever been something you wanted to tell me, but you haven’t, because you’ve been afraid of how I might react?”

Oikawa was made of glass. Iwaizumi was looking at him, looking _through_ him, and seeing everything that he’d kept to himself since he’d been broken up with and realised that maybe he didn’t want to kiss any of the girls in his class because he might want to kiss the boys instead. Or, maybe just one boy, because maybe, for Oikawa, it had always been Iwaizumi. 

Oikawa lied to Iwaizumi. “No.” His lie was bad, though, because Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at him almost immediately and pulled at Oikawa’s hand where it was still wrapped around his wrist.

“You’re a bad liar.” Oikawa felt Iwaizumi’s fingers slide between his, squeezing once, twice, three times. 

“I know.” 

“Can I tell you something, Tooru?” 

Oikawa nodded. He wanted to know all of Iwaizumi’s secrets, he always had — from the days when he’d badgered Iwaizumi about his favourite colour, to when they’d swapped their weirdest celebrity crushes. He wanted to know Iwaizumi better than anyone else did, and if Oikawa was honest, he’d admit that he _did_. But he didn’t want to think about what that might mean, so he ignored that fact and focused on what Iwaizumi had to tell him, away from prying eyes and a few weeks before they each set off on a new adventure on a different continent. 

“You know that I like girls, right?” Iwaizumi’s voice was smaller than Oikawa had ever known it, but the way he was holding onto Oikawa’s hand like a stranded man cupping at a mirage of water halted Oikawa’s racing thoughts before he could let them overwhelm him. There were a few beats of silence, with nothing happening at all except Oikawa looking at Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi playing with his hand. “Well, I didn’t know how to tell you this, because it’s weird and we don’t talk about the people we like. That isn’t something that we do. We never talk about the people we like, or crushes, or whatever, even though we’re best friends and that’s something that best friends are supposed to do. I didn’t even know you had a thing for Sawayama until she was your girlfriend and you were walking her home instead of me.”

It was possibly the most words that Iwaizumi had said to Oikawa without Oikawa’s interruptions or whines of protest, but right now, Oikawa was clinging on to every syllable Iwaizumi had to say. 

“Tooru, I like boys, too.” Iwaizumi confessed, holding on tighter to Oikawa’s hand than ever. Oikawa didn’t say anything, blinking at his best friend incredulously, because surely this was some cruel trick or a daydream that had gotten way out of his control. “Not, too, as in I’m saying you like boys— I like girls. And boys. I’m bisexual, Tooru.”

Oikawa still didn’t say anything, and he could have understood if Iwaizumi had taken his silence as judgement. Iwaizumi had made him speechless, which was a feat in itself. Oikawa reached into his jeans pocket with his free hand, which wasn’t easy in the confines of the passenger seat, and pulled out the physical token of everything that he’d been keeping to himself for months. 

“Iwa-chan, let go of my hand,” Oikawa said quietly, his eyes not leaving Iwaizumi’s for a moment.

Oikawa liked the dramatics of the situation, even if his heart broke a little at the way Iwaizumi seemed to retreat into himself for just a second. Iwaizumi did as he asked, just as he always had done. He felt Iwaizumi’s hand relinquish its hold on his, slow and reluctant. Oikawa waited for a moment, before pressing the second button of his uniform into Iwaizumi’s broad palm. For the first time in the history of their friendship, he wasn’t saying anything, but even still, he was perhaps being the most honest he had ever been. 

He watched Iwaizumi’s eyes focus on the button in the dim light, his hand tightening around it and holding it to his chest — then Iwaizumi’s free hand curled into a fist, punching Oikawa square in the arm. “Fuck you, Tooru, fuck you. _Fuck you.”_

“Is that a yes?”

“ _Yes_ , it’s a yes. I can’t believe you made me think you were _homophobic_ , you asshole.” Iwaizumi was laughing, a quiet and deep rumble of laughter that was music to Oikawa’s ears. Oikawa swore that the corners of those familiar emerald eyes were wet. Oikawa felt a little guilty about that, but he found it hard to care when Iwaizumi returned his feelings. “You know, I didn’t think we were going to make it this far.”

“Do you doubt me, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa raised an eyebrow upwards, a playful smile on his lips as he reached to pull Iwaizumi closer, even in their awkward positioning in the car. 

“Never. I doubted myself — wasn’t sure I could be the one you wanted, when no one seemed good enough for you, _your Highness_.” Iwaizumi teased in return and it only made Oikawa’s grin grow wider. 

“It wasn’t that no one was good enough for me,” Oikawa shook his head as he defended himself. “I just think that maybe, somehow, it’s always been you. Didn’t give anyone else a chance, did you?”

“Not on purpose, I’ll admit.” Iwaizumi was smiling back at him, one of those rare smiles that he saved for Oikawa when they were alone together. Oikawa could see the points of his canine teeth, and he thought it was cute that they were just a little bit more prominent than the rest. Like a puppy, or a vampire. Either way, there was a part of Oikawa that thought about what it would be like for Iwaizumi to nip at the skin of his neck or his bottom lip — Oikawa allowed himself to think about it, just for a second, because he was allowed to think these things without guilt anymore, before listening to Iwaizumi continue. “But still. Nice to have your attention all to myself.”

“You always have, Iwa-chan.”

The story of Oikawa Tooru’s first kiss was contested; some believed it was when he was fourteen, and an older girl kissed him behind the big tree in the schoolyard. Others assumed it happened when he was sixteen and had the reputation of a Casanova between the flirtatious lines he handed out to the girls in his class like candy. Some thought that it at least must have happened when he was dating Sawayama Midori. The only one who knew the truth, other than himself, was his best friend; it happened at the age of eighteen in the Iwaizumi family car, an awkward brushing of lips that was chased by giddy laughter, because it finally felt right. 

Maybe he didn’t need to put a label on himself yet, beyond knowing that girls weren’t for him. Maybe he didn’t need to figure out who he liked at all, beyond the fact that he really, really liked this one boy named Iwaizumi Hajime. For now, that was enough for Oikawa Tooru.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, you can find me at @bluenimi on twitter, or effie#4262 on discord! if you fancy commissioning me too, shoot me a dm and we can work something out. <3


End file.
